Sketches and Drafts
by Jack E
Summary: Response to HTR's 25 Drabble Challenge, and a teaser/preview to my pending project 'Writing on the Wall.'
1. Patience

_**Disclaimer**: Pirates of the Caribbean, _and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. The film _Casino Royale_ is the property of Sony Pictures. _Anchorman--The Legend of Ron Burgundy_ belongs to Dreamworks Video. No profit is made and no infringement intended.

**Author's Note: **These drabbles will not only be a response to the HideTheRum 25 Will/Elizabeth Drabble Challenge, but have an additional twist to it. I am also working on a challenge to write a Modern AU based off of _How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days_. The story will be an Elizabeth-POV that's more inspired than based off of the, as I'm taking lots of liberty with it. It's still very much in progress, but to whet the appetite for one of my first Modern AU attempts, all the drabbles here will be deleted scenes or Will-POV snippets on the forthcoming project, _Writing on the Wall_. Please enjoy. (And also note that I am working on all my other stories as well. My plot bunnies are mean to me.)

_Patience  
_"Bearing situations calmly or without complaint."

Jack had never, ever looked more like he was going to die in a single instant than he did now. Ever. The oddest part about that had to be the fact that Will kept catching his, "Shoot me!" looks when he technically had a girl on every side.

Well, alright, _maybe_ the plethora of glittery hair bands and wachamahoozits being stuck in every direction while the girls arranged his scraggly hair into something they obviously thought 'pretty' was a bit much. Jack mostly likely would forever rant and shudder at the mere mention of 'slumber parties' for the rest of either of their natural lives. That, Will was certain, would never be good for his mental or emotional sanity. But, he wasn't gonna lie, Jack looked _stupid_. No straight man should ever have so much pink in his hair. Ever. And no sane man should ever have so many tails and braids and... Those were the only two Will knew.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Still. It wasn't everyday that a man got to lean back and enjoy while Miss Lizzie Swann swept her fingers through his hair. Not only did Will discover, by chance, that even her knees smelt quite nice, but also if he gently tipped his head in one direction while she softly tugged and folded, something about whatever it was she was doing would end up not to her liking. Then she would have to run her full fingers and hands along his scalp to undo it and attempt once more at perfection. Again.

_That_. Felt. So good... Also, he was in charge of the TV and it's surprisingly large and tasteful selection of channels. Clearly, there was a God. And He had a sense of humor, which was all the better, as Will liked things better if he could laugh anyway. Jack wasn't liking being the butt of the joke—he didn't have the remote control his hand, though.

After much debate between whether he would prefer comedy or action tonight, he decided that he could use plenty extra doses of stereotypical masculinity for the moment and selected _Casino Royale_. Jack hissed a bit—he wanted _Anchorman_. Sucker. Will, for the matter, liked this part—the airport car chase. Physical combat, high speed vehicles, explosives... Oh, and just like he predicted, Elizabeth pulled away from his head, let out a small _tsk _of disapproval, and with her fingers splayed like a comb snaked her hands from the base of his neck to the end of his dark forest at the top of his forehead. Twice.

Jack could keep his misery—Will definitely wasn't complaining.


	2. Picture

__

_**Disclaimer**: Pirates of the Caribbean, _and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. No profit is made and no infringement intended.

_Picture  
_"A visualization of a description, representation or image."

The buzzing of his phone tickled his leg, and as he paused in his walk and adjusted the strap of his mildly heavy sidepack, he dipped his hand into his pocket. He was blocking the door's traffic, and he took a step aside while he dug, lugging his trunkish rolling bag with him. It shuddered again. Maybe Jack had found something he had forgotten at the flat... Or maybe he just wanted to wish him well again.

Not likely.

Managing to fish out his vibrating final link to all he was shedding away, he traded the vibrant sun for the stagnant florescent light of the terminal. Light from the windows still glared across the cell screen, and he took a moment to wipe the lint off with his pants. Again, it hummed. Just when he would have set his foot on the jet-walk, his eyes were finally able to catch glimpse of the picture of his caller, hovering beside the responsible name and number.

For a moment, he forgot where he was. If a matronly lady hadn't asked to pass him, and he was forced to move his luggage, he might have missed his plane. But, for once, he didn't resent himself for it. It was stupid, sure—but even when he knew how she viewed his company, even after he had turned around and beat the dust from his shoes, even though she was just a little 75-squared over-pixelated graphic on his outdated mobile... she was beautiful. And he couldn't help but wish...

He stepped on the jet-way. The phone thrilled, and his stomach twisted with it. That horrible instinct was there, willing him to attempt what he'd already attempted and failed: he wanted to talk to her again, that much was undeniable. He missed the smile in her voice while she talked, and the giggle in her eyes when she grinned with the pinkish tip of her tongue peeking between her pretty teeth. But she would smile from James' arm, mentioning his name five times while she giggled.

The phone slid sleekly back into his pocket, its latest hum rolling and then ending prematurely. He forced his eyes to appreciate the bleak landscape outside the gliding window panes. It didn't distract him from the fact that his phone didn't ring again.

It wasn't healthy. Riding batches and dozens of ups and downs that mostly ended up in solid, crippling downs after ups that were only tiny, spontaneous combustions in time... He couldn't do it anymore.

But he'd decided that the night before, hadn't he? And the night before that...

Somewhere along the way he'd started walking. And somewhere along _that_ way his phone began to buzz again. His hand jerked he immediately went for it, but when he looked at her picture again, he realized how much he simultaneously wanted to laugh and vomit. No. Just why couldn't she leave him alone?!

He happened to be passing a fountain. Funny, that. He never recalled a fountain in the airport. Oh, well.

It felt ridiculously good to heft that piece of junk. It tumbled and twirled in funny patterns as it briefly flitted through the air. Better yet was the satisfying _blp_ as the phone broke the surface and never rose back up. Water and low-value coins were its company now. He'd like to see Elizabeth Swann try to talk to him from _there_... Actually, he'd rather not see Elizabeth Swann ever again.

He couldn't help but think, as he grabbed his luggage and sought out his gate, how good a thing it was that, for once, his wish was completely realistic.


	3. Dust

**Disclaimer**: Pirates of the Caribbean, and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. No profit is made and no infringement intended.

_Dust  
_"Fine particles of matter_"_

The sun was streaming through the window now, attracting lazy wafts of dust for drifting in a soothing haze of flickers and winks. Her flat opened to the afternoon sky light more warm and widely, splaying it across her tangled and littered bed, where she'd begun sleep the time away. That had to be a singular benefit of illness, William surmised: the sleep.

Her nose was still pinkish from all the tissue attention, and her hair lightly matted with sweat from her passing moments of fever. But for a moment, she was a peaceful beauty for Will to marvel, and the dust danced around her like a Sandman's spell. He laid his head on the pillow to watch her for as long as he could remain before he fell to the magic as well.


	4. Sneak Attack

**Disclaimer**: Pirates of the Caribbean, and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. No profit is made and no infringement intended.

_Sneak Attack_  
"A mildly mischievous trap involving a period wait and the element of surprise."

Will sighed and turned to lean his forehead against the wall's painted brick. This would have been so much easier if it weren't necessary to appear completely absent from the location. And he didn't even know where Elizabeth had run off to—the least she could've done was keep him company. Now all he had to do was wait... and smell the chlorine. Gosh, it stunk. Why didn't they get a UV system in here? It wasn't as if the body odor was enough.

Eventually Jack came waltzing round the corner with his hands in his pockets, whistling some public domain tune. With a nod of his coy head, he passed Will by to locate the vending machines. Will grinned. Finally, James had returned to the locker room. Now he needed to find Elizabeth—fast.

He expected to have to look all over the vicinity and then wait forever because she had gone to the loo. However, before he could leave his spot near the front desk, she turned the corner with her head bent over her phone as she texted someone frivolously. Perfect timing. Will approached her quietly, allowing her the time to finish her last message.

He ended up hovering without a sound. She did something different to her hair today. He wasn't sure what it was exactly—all those little tricks girls used were rather beyond him. But he did know he liked it. He liked it a lot—too much, even. Time to change his focus. Something about her text amused her, causing her to quirk her pretty mouth to the si—What was wrong with him?! He wasn't supposed to be looking at her like this. He'd managed to effortlessly be indifferent to these things for months now. What was the deal?

She looked up, smiling, and he dismissed the fact that his heart seemed to forget it had a job to do. He just needed... to lower his cholesterol. Yes. More Cheerios—yum... Jack would have had a heyday if he could've seen Will's inner workings.

Jack! James! Remembering the reason he'd even come, Will shook his head.

"Elizabeth! I was looking for you—James is in the locker room."

She snapped to attention with eyes brighter than he remembered, quickly opening her little purse and plopping her phone in it. "Oh, perfect! Let's go, then!" She marched for the locker room doors, her heeled shoes giving a little bounce to her walk that Will—no, he wasn't going to observe anymore. No more observation. He would watch his feet instead. Na, the ceiling.

She waited for him by the door, decidedly ignoring any men exiting the facilities while he decidedly attempted to ignore her. Well, until she smiled. Then he had to smile back. Habit... really.

Evidently she had her head screwed on much more straight than he, because she soon jerked it to gesture at something to the side. Oh, yes. They were standing by a door... which he was supposed to go through. He was turning out to look like the genius from Opposite Land. He'd have to see how well he could cover it up.

Hoping that would do the trick, he sighed then flashed his grin again. "Kay," he started, but then had to stop. She'd grinned in reciprocation. He shrugged one shoulder to get the energy of his suppressed auto-return-smile out of his system, flitting his eyes toward the door and back. He hadn't had this many butterflies in his stomach since... ever. And for what?! He needed to go. Now. "Just wait until I give the all clear."

He turned and managed to take three steps toward the door. However, her soft hands had come to grab his arm, preventing him from going any further. Though he choked, Will managed to keep it hidden while he turned around to look at her, inquiringly. To say it was a challenge would have been a bold understatement. Her fingers were practically searing his skin with the way he could hardly notice anything else about life at that moment. Elizabeth having her brow pinched in such certain firmness didn't help either. How could determination look so wonderful?

But then those lips parted, her eyes vibrant and vivid as she spoke. "Don't get caught."

If he had spoken back, he would've made a fool of himself. No question. Her voice caressed his mind while her eyes held him motionless without even trying. So, he nodded, and eagerly turned into the musky changing chambers.

It took a moment, but he eventually managed to blink her blazing eyes away from his retinas. He needed to be more careful. He'd let his guard down much too far. It would be good if he stopped thinking about her and thought about the task at hand. If things were going correctly, Jack was standing beside the pool entry delaying any would be entries, while Elizabeth did the same for the main access. Taking a quick round to check all corners of the complex services, and satisfied that no one was in the room except for James—who was humming the Beatles in the shower—Will made for his friend's bag, which he had spotted during his perimeter check.

It was easier than he thought it would be. All he had to do was step lightly. He was smoothly slinging the small duffel over his shoulder, gathering up his piles of spare and dirty clothes, having enough sympathy to leave behind the underpants... Admittedly, there was one hiccup when James' humming formed words turning out to be, "_Hm-hm the Lapras. Pipikachu pipipikachu_..." But biting his tongue seemed to hold his snort of delight down. That was news he had to pass on to Jack. He kept his silence as he rounded the corner, out the door.

There she was again, turning her ethereal head with an angelic pull of her clearly kissable lips. Sweet, so sweet, was her scent. The smooth apparent-perfection of her skin hummed in warm luminosity. And those eyes...

The prank was supposed to be on James. Still, someone else seemed intent on staging their own sneak attack against William Turner from the inside out.

He had no defenses left.


	5. Book

**Disclaimer**: Pirates of the Caribbean, and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. No profit is made and no infringement intended

_Book  
_"A major division of a literary work"

"Will, look at me."

Will grit his teeth. He was in a very serious game of Bejeweled at the moment—did he _have_ to be pried _now_? He growled in the back of his throat for an instant, lining up some sapphires to his satisfaction. "What?"

"Didn't you hear me?" James sighed with readily apparent exasperation. Well, cheers to him. A little stress in his perfect, fancy, rich life could do him some good.

"Apparently not." Ooh, an emerald set. _Click_.

James sighed again, apparently unhappy with Will's lack of hell-bent interest. His figure turning away in Will's peripheral vision, he marched for the door. "You're no help after all."

Now it was Will's turn to sigh, deeply and long, as he closed his eyes to prevent them from rolling to high heaven. This whole situation wasn't fair—it gave Jim the ability to manipulate him with guilt trips he didn't even realize existed. He wasn't remotely _trying_ to compunctuate Will into doing these things for him either—that blame could be placed solely on Will's over active conscience, which was tormenting him over an issue that was virtually nothing. It wasn't like Will was _acting_ on his feelings... much. Well, what little he _was_ executing wasn't hurting James any. And besides, Elizabeth had _asked_ for his assistance, so he was merely serving in the spirit of chivalry.

Yeah, no arguing with his ethics could smooth out that uneasy notion.

Will softened his tone as he called after his friend, "_What_, James? Come back."

James stopped at the door. After debating something of a nature Will couldn't pin, he shut it and sauntered his way back to Will's couch, dropping into its embrace with uncharacteristic sloppiness. He'd take his own time to respond to the matter, so Will took the time to return to his game. His score was reaching his former high—this round looked promising. Oh, there was a potential for bonus points. Nice.

"I don't know what to get Liz," James finally confessed mournfully. "No idea."

Ah, so _that_ was it, was it? His careful plan to impress her this weekend with perfect thoughtfulness was _already_ falling through. Will didn't know whether or not he wanted to dance or feel sorry for him. Mostly he felt stunned that James could draw such a blank—enough that he stopped playing his game and turned in his chair to share the fact with his sky-high eyebrows. James' distraught forehead rub didn't awake any sympathy.

"Are you serious." One of Elizabeth's top five topics involved profuse gushing about how much she loved specific things in this life. She had _lists—_how could James not think of something?

Maybe he just didn't think those things were perfect enough. Yeah, that had to be it—hopefully.

"I don't know what she likes," came James miserable sigh.

It was getting uncomfortably hot in the room, and suddenly James' voice was intolerably annoying. He didn't know? _He didn't know_?! With all the time that he got to spend with her, like the lucky dog he was, he didn't have _any_ idea whatsoever what her tastes were? The things he, Will Turner, would know if he had so many moments.

He decided to pretend to act casual... which didn't work as well as he would have liked. _"_She likes _books_—you should know that."

"Well, _what_ books?"

His hand twitched, resulting in the accidental click of the wrong jewel. Crap! He'd never wanted to punch James in the mouth so badly in his life. Or to throw his monitor across the room, which made no sense whatsoever.

In fact, nonsensically, he'd had enough of James and his stupid, cocky, flippant, ignorant, spoiled, Elizabeth-steeped— He turned on him. "You know, I shouldn't know this if you don't. Do you actually pay attention to who she is?!"

"I—"

He didn't want to breathe the same air as this idiot anymore. Before he knew it, he was half across the room, heading for the front door. He wasn't sure where he intended to go, but he hadn't realized he was going to be leaving the first place anyway. Whatever, he just needed to get out of this place. His hand was on the doorknob.

"Will!"

And he was out.

Yet... somehow, when he had left James shut up in that room, his anger seemed to have shut up with him. All he was left with was the echoing slam of the door, and accursed guilt _again_. How odd. James was the one that should feel guilty, shouldn't he? He was the one that got everything up and down the river in addition to the sky above. He was the one who griped about things too small to be considered problems.

Then again, he was the one that didn't have a clue when it came to Elizabeth. Well, James' hopelessness _was_ the whole reason Will got _any_ time with Elizabeth at all, wasn't it? Maybe... maybe he could show a little mercy.

He sighed, and turned the doorknob one final time.

"She needs a new copy of To Kill a Mockingbird—it went missing."


	6. Ferris Wheel

**Disclaimer**: Pirates of the Caribbean, and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. No profit is made and no infringement intended

_Ferris Wheel  
_"An amusement park device carrying horizontal seats around the rim of a large upright wheel"

His snow cone was getting sticky, but Will didn't dare lick his fingers. Well, he dared, but didn't think it was appropriate. And now that they'd sat, he didn't know what else to do. Ferris wheels wheels, quite frankly, were typically intended for family or dates... Okay, maybe the truth was he hadn't done a thing to hold back against going on it. And, yeah, so he had been ignoring James' calls all night. That didn't mean that he this outing had been a _date_. And the ride wasn't the the tunnel of love—it was a wheel. A big fat wheel of... coupliness.

Dang it.

The ride started with decent jerk that rocked the seat a bit, bringing Will to instinctively shield his snow cone and turn to see if it had surprised Elizabeth as much as him. With her fluffy little stuffed animal securely snuggled on her lap, and her own snow cone intact, she met his look and grinned vivaciously.

The air was moving and fresh up here, and _she was doing it to him again_. Being gorgeous and perfect and—

Her eyes lit up, and he belated heard her words as she exclaimed happily, "Oh, look! There's Jack!"

William flitted his eyes to find his delightfully gonzo friend. Yet the moment he'd succeeded in his goal, he found himself being drawn back to the beauty at his side. It was in that moment that he realized all his fighting had come to naught. He had lost without contest, really. Fantastic. Perfect. Just another thing in this world that he would love to have and couldn't. What was he gonna do now?

He did the first thing he could think of.

Jack never saw that pretty ice ball coming.


	7. Embrace

**Disclaimer**: _Pirates of the Caribbean_, and recognizable names of the characters, events, items and places therein, are the property of Disney Enterprises, Inc. and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. _February Song_ is the property of Josh Groban and Reprise Records. No profit is made and no infringement intended.

_Embrace  
_"A close encircling with the arms, to hold dear"

_Where is that simple day  
__Before colors broke into shades?  
__And how did I ever fade  
__Into this life?_

He could hardly hear the music. The notes swept into his soul and stirred his heart as only even the simplest and basest of harmonies could, he knew, but... those words. Those he knew in this strange twilight world. While all other things faded away, the words remained. And her. Mellifluous, seraphic her... Seraphic? Ha. Elizabeth was reducing him to a cliché puddle of sap. And she was cruel in her ignorance, setting her head so achingly soft against his shoulder to relax with the rhythm of the song.

A gentle pennant reached his nose and tickled is senses with the fragrance that seemed to be the very transudation of her personality—her real self. The comely sweep of her chromatic locks kept the most of them off her neck, elegant and sleek. Though he wouldn't let her go, he slipped his eyes shut, to blind himself from the light and sight that was forcibly and only her. He felt her smile against his shoulder as the voice of whoever it was that was singing swept up to brush the stars. She'd heard this one before, apparently—her smooth voice was humming with her breath on his skin. Heaven help him, he couldn't resist pulling her a little closer, drinking deeply of everything about her. James could fume and slug him as hard as he pleased, if he saw fit. This was _Will_'s moment.

The last time he'd ever be this close...

_Morning is waking up.  
__And sometimes it's more than just enough  
__When all that you need to love  
__Is in front of your eyes—  
__It's in front of your eyes._

"Will?" Elizabeth mewed gently, pulling away from him with ginger care. The chorus swelled back up again, behind them, while her warmth and presence was readily missed, even when she still stood at so close a distance.

Will opened his eyes to meet her own. "Mm?"

He knew what she was bound to say before her mouth had even begun to form the words. It was that look in her eye—the same one she always gave him when the time came around. He hoped, for what fraction of a moment there was available, that he was wrong.

"I need to go now."

The world froze—he hadn't been wrong. But the words were still a heavy, stinging blow. It hadn't been five minutes—perhaps not even three. How could she have to leave so soon? He opened his mouth to protest... But what could he say?

Evidently, she didn't notice his dismay. With a soft smile and turn of her head, she chimed a hopeful song: "I'll see tomorrow?"

No. No, she wouldn't—that was the _problem_. She couldn't leave yet.

"A bit," he choked out.

What? What kind of short-sheeted lie was that?

Whatever it was, she bought it, satisfied. A flash of perfect teeth. A felicitous twinkle in her brilliant eyes. A bright, "Good night..."

_Sometimes it's hard to find the ground,  
__'Cause I keep on falling as I try to get away  
__From this crazy world._

And that was it, then. The music now blared annoyingly loud and pounded in his brain against an already thrumming headache pressed against his skull. Time was water, light and air, slipping through fingers that had forgotten to cup themselves as tightly as possible. One second she was smiling up at him with the colored lights dancing in her hair and eyes. He could have kissed her. He should have kissed her. He couldn't move. Three seconds and she had her back turned, slipping easily through the tight, oblivious queues. He could have grabbed her. He should have grabbed her. He could've moved. Ten seconds and she and James had found one another. Tenderness and warmth, smiles and kisses—her hand was in James', and they were moving toward the door. His heart pounded and squalled.

She was out the door, and the night swallowed her up with a greedy grin.

His final moments in forever had opened the way in front of his feet, his certainty more clear than he'd ever known it to be. She had been in his arms, with him in a place that may well have been a world all their own... and he hadn't moved. He hadn't spoken. He's just let life happen without him—again.

_And I never want to let you down.  
__Forgive me if I slip away.  
__When all that I've known is lost and found,  
__I promise you I, I'll come back to you one day._

_Where has that old friend gone?  
__Lost in a February song,  
__Tell him it won't be long  
__Till he opens his eyes,  
__Opens his eyes._

The piano's closing chords hummed in his chest. His arms still tingled with the absent warmth of her embrace. Her shadow was still, in his mind, hovering at the door. But the harsh bite of reality was that Miss Lizzie wasn't walking back in, didn't know he needed one last chance. And, even if she did, she wouldn't have been able to give it to him.

He'd opened his eyes far too late.


End file.
